


12 Grimmauld Place

by Yatorihell



Series: In The Darkness [48]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yatorihell/pseuds/Yatorihell
Summary: Before the school year starts, Yato is faced with a new threat.Thank you Blue (kiun.tumblr) for beta-ing
Relationships: Iki Hiyori/Yato
Series: In The Darkness [48]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/547369
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	12 Grimmauld Place

**Author's Note:**

> I Lived Bitch.

Summer plans following the Triwizard Tournament were far and few between. Yukine had shut himself off from the world after Suzuha’s funeral, but Yato assured Hiyori that he was getting better every day. The whole event had left the wizarding world shocked; a young boy killed by what was claimed to be the Sorcerer.

Headlines splashed across the front pages every day; speculating what happened that night, Professor Tenjin’s failure as a protector, and the identity of Suzuha’s killer. Of course, the Ministry of Magic had quashed claims of the Sorcerer returning quickly. After all, it was on the word of a sixteen-year-old boy who was under suspicion himself. Who was to say that Yato hadn’t killed Suzuha himself in the maddening maze to claim the trophy for himself? The  _ Daily Prophet _ did like to make a scandal out of anything after all, true or not. But the thought that one of the most powerful dark wizards returning? That was not something even the Minister of Magic would want to think of.

Yato made sure to keep Hiyori in the know with what was happening away from the Muggle world by calling (something he had tactfully mastered after screaming down the phone at the Ikis on his first attempt), but on this occasion Hiyori invited Yato to come visit as long as he brought newspapers.

Hiyori’s mother was wary when a knock at the door came at 9 o’clock, finding Yato on the doorstep unannounced and unaccompanied by his short, blond-haired friend. Mrs. Iki paused for a second.

“Can I – “.

Mrs Iki could barely finish her question before Hiyori came barrelling down the stairs, clearly trying to get Yato away as fast as possible. Hiyori had never told her parents what happened that night at the Triwizard Tournament, but the newspaper under Yato’s arm was enough reason for them to never let her go back.

“Oh good you’re here Yato did you bring the books oh you did good let's go I’ll be back later mum,” Hiyori rattled, not taking time to breathe as she propelled Yato backwards up the driveway.

Hiyori ignored her mum’s protests. It was still light out and Yato was all but banned from entering the house after he blew chimney soot all over the pristine living room.

Hiyori led Yato to a small park a distance from her house, the neighbourhood kids long gone leaving them alone to idly sit on the swings. The last dredges of August warmth lingered on their skin and the late summer sun had nearly dipped below the treeline, leaving just enough light for Hiyori to scan what Yato had brought her.

Yato eyed the newest headline of the  _ Daily Prophet _ that Hiyori had nestled in the crook of her elbow as she skimmed the pages, _ ‘HOGWARTS TO TEACH AFTER MASSACRE’ _ in black, capitalised letters on top of a moving image of the foreboding castle.

The world had quietened save for distant bird calls and the wind rustling in the eaves that had begun to turn into fiery orange hues as autumn took its toll. The toes of Hiyori’s shoes skimmed the bracken ground, creating little grooves in their path as she muttered under her breath. If she was reading aloud or cursing, Yato couldn’t tell.

“Bit of an overstatement.” Hiyori muttered as she folded the paper back down and held it on her lap. She looked sideways at Yato. “They can’t really expect Hogwarts to close, can they? We need Defence Against the Dark Arts more than ever now!”

Yato shrugged and looked down at his own scuff marks in the dirt. “People will say anything, but Professor Tenjin has said the same thing about needing to defend ourselves. I bet the Minister loved that.”

Hiyori sighed, looking back at the sunset. Yato stole a glance at her face, etched with worry and brow furrowed, lips slightly downturned. His heart twinged.

“Nothing will change, Hiyori. We’re going back to Hogwarts.”

Yato held Hiyori’s gaze when she looked back at him. He gave her a half-hearted smile. “Unless they decide to get some Dementors guarding the school, then that’s a problem.”

Hiyori gave a slight laugh, standing up and pushing the newspaper against Yato’s chest. “If they bring those back, I’ll be coming straight back here.”

There it was again, that twinge. Even if it was a joke, the idea of Hiyori not being around was more than he would like to think about, not when his final year at Hogwarts would be next September.

Yato ignored his thoughts and slapped a grin on his face, shuffling the newspaper back under his arm and standing up to walk Hiyori home. The pathway out of the park was well lit by neon streetlights, the distant twinkle of city lights, houses and cars shining through the hedgerows on the other side of the park.

“How is Sakura anyway? Been a while since you heard from her?” Hiyori asked.

“Few weeks ago she sent a letter, said she’s managed to get somewhere safe but won’t say where.” Yato replied. He assumed it was a need-to-know basis. After all, Sakura was still a fugitive since they broke her out of Hogwarts. She hadn’t been seen since apart from the odd sighting by a villager that never turned up any clues to her whereabouts.

“That’s something at least,” Hiyori reassured. She fell quiet for a second as the proverbial elephant in the room hung over them. “How’s Yukine?”

Yato grimaced but hid it quickly as Hiyori glanced at him. Yukine had him so he wasn’t completely alone, but going back to Hogwarts within the next few weeks was not going to be something Yukine would be eager to do.

“Fine, I guess...” The words died on Yato’s lips and they fell into silence, the only sound in the night their footsteps which began to echo. The pathway had forked, the right led towards the city, and the left pathway acted as an underground pedestrian tunnel beneath the road which would take them close to Hiyori’s house. They turned left into the tunnel.

“He’ll be ok,” Hiyori reaffirmed.

Yato hummed in response, looking at the white brick walls which had been sprayed with a rainbow of graffiti, mostly tags from kids who had nothing better to do. Orange lights encased in plastic had been on the walls, casting phantom shadows against the walls.

“Shortcut?” Yato asked.

“Yeah, better than trying to cross that road at night,” Hiyori said, nodding her head towards the roof where cars passed overhead.

Yato glanced behind them as they walked. The sun had completely set as they talked, leaving a gaping black hole where they had entered and a milky full moon ahead of them. Their footsteps seemed to echo louder as they went further, and it became colder. Much colder.

Yato’s hackles rose as did his sense of dread. He had felt a coldness like this before – multiple times in fact –, most recently when his own life ended at Hogwarts. They stopped without a word and the world turned silent. Silent enough for Yato to hear Hiyori’s own heart hammering in her chest. The neon lights surrounding them flickered as if they were candles caught in a gust of wind and the world slowed.

Yato’s eyes darted to Hiyori whose face had paled to the same shade of white on the wall behind her, puffs of visible breath leaving her trembling lips and tears forming in her eyes. He could see the hairs on her arms raised on goose bumped flesh and the visible shake of her hands.

Yato’s fingers slid against his pocket, searching for his wand. “Hiyori-.”

A rattling breath from behind alerted them, but it was too late. Yato and Hiyori spun to find the enshrouded figure cloaked in dark rags that flowed freely around its skeletal body and hooded face upon them. A Dementor.

Hiyori’s yelp of terror sounded far away as the Dementors thin fingers wrapped around Yato’s neck, roughly slamming him against the wall. Yato grunted from the force, eyes wide and newspaper scattering around them like falling leaves.

Hiyori stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape, frozen to the spot as the memories of the Dementors kiss haunted her.

Yato struggled, hands clawing at his neck and feet kicking at the rag-draped form. “Hi-yori!” Yato choked out.

Hiyori snapped back to reality. Despite her body screaming for her to run, scarred from the trauma the Dementors had inflicted on her at the lake, she knew she had to fight. Hiyori, defenceless without her wand, lunged for the Dementors arm, fingernails within millimetres of reaching before a sharp tug on her leg brought her crashing face-first to the ground and dragged her away.

Winded, Hiyori scrabbled to sit up before her assailant could get the best of her, but not before she found herself looking into the gaping mouth of another Dementor. The air shimmered before her face and she was enveloped in despair. Blood rushed in her ears, but still she could hear nothing but her heart slamming in her chest and the raspy breaths of the Dementor. Hiyori’s eyes rolled back in her head, body falling limp against the ground as the Dementor claimed her soul with its kiss.

Yato wheezed, fighting the Dementor as it turned his face to its own and drew its first breath. Yato screamed, his head fogging with the suppressed memories of his childhood. His Father trapping him with these creatures long enough to serve as punishment, to make Yato fear him if he ever disobeyed Father.  _ Is this what happens when I disobey? _ Yato thought.

Yato’s hand dropped from his neck, frantically searching until his fingertips found the shaft of his wand in his pocket. In one motion Yato pressed the wand into the Dementors neck, connecting with a flash of light that sent the Dementor screeching up the tunnel. Yato fell harshly on the floor, wand in a vice grip, gasping for breath and trying to clear his vision before the Dementor returned. Hiyori, motionless with a drained expression, stared back at him.

Bile rose in Yato’s throat, and the rasping of the oncoming Dementor forced his vision to tunnel and hyper focus. Yato flipped onto his back, wand raised and bellowed “Expecto Patronum!”

His wand, held so tightly in his fist that it fought not to snap in his grip, spat out a familiar silvery web. The vague figure of his patronus cat barely formed before it slammed into the Dementor’s chest as it descended on him, sending it screeching out of the tunnel. Yato quickly looked behind him at the other Dementor which, although distracted by Yato, still loomed over Hiyori’s twitching body. Yato grunted and swung his wand over his head. Like a slingshot, the patronus streaked across the tunnel in a ball of light, forcing the Dementor into the night sky along with itself.

The world was coming back to focus, muffled but no longer silent. Yato let out a shaky breath, rolling onto his knees with his head hung and feeling the need to vomit.  _ Was that Father? _ Yato thought to himself. Why else would there be Dementors in the Muggle world? Yato’s eyes fell on Hiyori, unmoved and facing away from him, and he felt the sickness might overcome him.

Yato scrambled from his knees, only to fall on them again after a few steps that brought him to Hiyori’s side. He dropped his wand in his lap, unwilling to disarm himself in case of another attack.

“Hiyori?”

Yato’s hands cradled Hiyori’s face roughly, desperately searching for some hint of life. The summer warmth had left her cheeks and left her deathly pale, but he could hear her breath which passed through her parted lips.

Yato put his hand behind Hiyori’s neck, gently lifting her head off the ground. His thumb moved against her cheek, urging her to wake up. He repeated her name and gave her a gentle shake. “Hiyori, wake up.”

“Yato…” Hiyori murmured. Her eyes remained closed for a few more moments, brow scrunched. The neon lights burned her eyes, and everything was blurred until her eyes adjusted. The first thing she saw was Yato’s worried face. 

“Yato?” she questioned. In a second Hiyori’s eyes widened as she registered the attack, struggling to push herself up and head whirling to the side.

“It’s ok, they’re gone,” Yato hushed.

Yato’s hand rested on Hiyori’s back to support her, allowing her to rest against his chest for a moment. He could assume that the memories she had relived were as pleasant as his own. He absentmindedly stroked her back, fingertips catching every now and then in her long, dishevelled hair.

“Why are they here?” Hiyori asked. The question was blunt, hollow. The thought of it being the work of the Sorcerer had crossed his mind, and it was the most likely reason.

“The Sorcerer…” Yato said. He barely registered Hiyori’s hum, his mind preoccupied.

If Father had been searching for Yato all this time, perhaps someone was watching Hiyori’s house in case he showed up. If that was the case, the only safe place to go would be Hogwarts.

At this thought Yato eyed the fallen pages of the  _ Daily Prophet _ . Without a word he pointed his wand at the pile, causing the papers to dampen and turn to mush, ink smearing and the magic seeping away to make it look like another piece of Muggle litter.

Yato lightly patted Hiyori’s back, voice lifting slightly to distract her from her troubled thoughts. “Come on, let’s get you home. Your mum dislikes me enough without you hanging around with me.”

Hiyori laughed gently as Yato rose, taking his extended hands to pull herself up. Yato’s arm wrapped around her middle to keep her steady as they walked, Hiyori’s hand on his which rested on her waist as they walked back into the night.

~

For the first time in five weeks, Sakura sent Yato a letter. Well, not so much a letter but a note.

Yato recognised her cursive handwriting on the envelope when Yukine handed it to him, his name written small in the centre of the yellowed parchment. Inside was a small piece of paper with the address ’12 Grimmauld Place’ written on it. Less than a second after Yato had read the words, the paper burst into flames and singed his fingers, making him curse as the ashes fell to the floor.

“What’s that about?” Yukine asked.

“Sakura,” Yato muttered, “I think she wants to meet.”

Yato tried not to get his hopes up; it had been over a year since he last saw her. So much had happened, all of which she was aware of thanks to his would-be-owl pigeon who ferried their letters to each other. But still, it wasn’t the same as being able to talk to her.

“Best go at night.” Yukine replied, and Yato hummed his agreement.

Yato left that evening, taking the train to Kings Cross Station and following the directions on his small flip phone to a Muggle neighbourhood twenty minutes away. Grimmuald Place was a uniform street of grey bricked townhouses, most of which had flower baskets and planters draped over their fences. Yato scanned the door numbers as he passed. Nine, ten, eleven, thirteen….

Yato paused for a second and backtracked to the previous house. Yato frowned at the front door’s silver lettering.  _ Eleven _ , he looked to the right,  _ thirteen _ . He cursed Sakura inwardly, asking himself what this meant, if he had misread the note, or if it was a code.

Yato turned to leave, but small tremors under his feet and grating in his ears caught his attention.

The two houses were splitting down the middle, tearing themselves apart from each other as another uniform house forced its way between number eleven and thirteen as if it had always been there. A black door appeared, its only features a silver knocker beneath the number twelve and an illuminated transom window above it.

The door latch clicked open, and the waify figure of a woman was framed in the doorway. 

Sakura was unrecognisable. She was dressed in light clothing that blew in the slight breeze rather than the dirty rags he had last seen her in. Her hair was longer and kept in a high ponytail with bangs that fell around her face. Her arms hugged her waist as she smiled at Yato. She looked better, healthier. Alive.

“Sakura?”

“Hello, baby brother.”

Although there was no blood between them, Sakura was the closest thing he had left of a family. Yato barely registered the gate swing open for him as he ran to the house and embraced Sakura tightly.

Sakura laughed lightly. Yato all but towered over her now, evidence of how much he had grown as he trapped her in a suffocating embrace. She rested her hand on Yato’s head, petting his hair.

“Come on, we need to talk.”

Yato released Sakura and followed her into the house. On the outside it was beautiful, just like any other house on the street, but the inside was a different story.

The chandelier, once gold and elegant, resembled a cotton candy of spider webs, as did most of the house as Yato would find out. Gas lamps flickered across the paintings whose occupants had abandoned the house as it fell into disrepair. Ornate green and silver wallpaper peeled outwards and the lustrous carpet had become threadbare and tattered at the edges of doorways. The hallway stretched further back that Yato thought it would, ending in a grand staircase that was forebodingly ill-lit.

Sakura turned into the second left-hand doorway, leading Yato into a dingier dining room. A long wooden table with high-backed chairs stood in the centre of the room, littered with stacks of rotting books and parchment. The torn chaise lounge silhouetted in the bay window and dirt-caked surfaces showed that no one had cared much for the house in the last decade.

Sakura approached the mahogany table, stacking assorted papers and books in her arms to make space. Every space Yato looked at seemed occupied by creepy crawlies; spiders hung in the cabinet of fine china and watched them from the corners of rooms, even beetles scuttled out from under the papers that Sakura moved.

“What is this place?” Yato asked, scratching the back of his neck as he eyed the bugs.

“I guess you can call it my ancestral home,” Sakura replied. “My family lived here for generations.”

She gestured for Yato to sit at the table with an unloaded arm. Yato complied, ignoring the plume of dust that rose from the reddish-brown chair cushion as he sat down. A sense of melancholy overcame Yato as Sakura moved about the dirty room, no doubt in his mind the rest of the house was much worse. Is this how she had been living since her escape?

Sakura dumped the papers on the floor and sat opposite Yato, ignoring the crash as the stack toppled and scattered across the wooden floor.

“My great-great grandmother charmed this place off a poor muggle who was in love with her,” Sakura continued. “She obliviated his memory afterwards and he started a new life in Ireland.”

Sakura chuckled lightly at the story, but Yato didn’t laugh. He stared down at the dusty tabletop, hands in his jacket pockets.

There was an agonising pause. The grandfather clock’s pendulum announced every second that passed. Finally, Yato spoke.

“Is this where you’ve been all this time?”

It was a painful question. Sakura had been so secretive, not wanting to risk detection, but here she was just a few miles from the Ministry of Magic itself. Part of him had hoped she was close to Hogwarts, where he lived for most of the year, not down here in a hole.

Sakura sighed. “I inherited this house after my parents were killed in the First Wizarding War that defeated the Sorcerer. But no, I didn’t come back here until recently.”

Yato nodded, changing the subject. “Don’t the Muggles notice this place? After it pops out of nowhere?”

Sakura shook her head. “Muggle neighbours don’t even know this place exists. Fidelius Charm; you can’t see it unless someone tells you about it.”

Yato nodded again. That made sense, number twelve only appeared because he knew it was meant to be there.

Sakura sighed and clasped her hands in front of her on the table. Streaks of dirt rubbed onto her wrists, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes, deep chocolate and calm, stared into Yato’s.

“Yato, the reason I brought you here wasn’t to show you this place. The reason is because you need to join the Order of the Phoenix.”

Yato blinked at her, the expression lost on him. “The what now?”

After a moment Sakura sighed once again. She withdrew her arms from the table and let them drop to the armrests, leaning against the back of the chair.

“The Order of the Phoenix is a secret society, founded by Professor Tenjin to defeat the Sorcerer,” Sakura explained. “The Order and the Ministry worked together to defeat him when he tried to take power.”

_ The First Wizarding War, _ Yato thought. They learnt about it in school, but not about this Order of the Phoenix. He thought this in silence as Sakura continued.

“It disbanded after the war, most of the members were dead by then including my own parents. But now the Sorcerer has returned, and the Order is needed. Only this time the Ministry will not admit the Sorcerer has returned because of the panic and chaos that doing so would cause, so it’s up to us to protect you.”

That last part caught Yato by surprise. “Why protect me?”

He realised it was a stupid question as soon as he said it; he had nearly been murdered at the graveyard by the Sorcerer. But Sakura’s answer surprised him again.

“There’s a prophecy about how the Sorcerer can be defeated, this time for good.”

“What prophecy?”

Sakura shuffled, keeping her face plain. “No one knows for certain. The Department of Mysteries houses these kinds of things.”

Yato knew there was something that she wasn’t telling him. “How does that relate to me?”

Sakura was silent, eyes attempting to stare down his question. But Yato had had enough of secrets.

“It’s about me isn’t it?”

“We think that it’s about you, but we just don’t know.” Sakura replied quickly.

Yato sighed and stared into the spider cabinet to his left. It looked like he was going to be coddled tight if the Order wanted to protect him. Out of nowhere his promise to Hiyori resurfaced;  _ ‘We’re going back to Hogwarts’. _

“Can I go back to Hogwarts?” Yato blurted out. He shut his mouth quickly and tried not to look too bothered, but Sakura could see the worry caught in the corner of his mouth.

Sakura’s mouth tweaked into a smile. “Yes, you can go back to school. There’s a few members of the Order in Hogwarts who can keep an eye on you.”

This statement piqued Yato’s curiosity. “Who is in the Order?”

“Witches and wizards who are close friends of Professor Tenjin; war survivors, but there aren’t many of those. Most members are survived by their children, like me.”

It was a vague answer, but Yato could assume it was some of the teachers.

Sakura stood up and came to stand at Yato’s side. She carded a hand through his dark hair and spoke softly.

“Although Hogwarts is safe, the Sorcerer would expect that Professor Tenjin’s army would be there,” Sakura explained. “So, our home will be the headquarters.”

Yato looked up at Sakura, searching her expression, afraid he had misunderstood what she meant. Sakura smiled in return. Yato’s laugh came out in a breath, unable to believe it.

He had a home. An ancestral home.

“What about Yukine -,” Yato started, but Sakura hushed him.

“I’ve already sent word to your friends to join us, and the remaining Order members. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

Yato couldn’t stop his grin, and he didn’t want to. He rose when Sakura beckoned him to follow.

Sakura talked as she led Yato out of the dining room. “Muggles don’t know we exist, and we’re armed with every protection spell possible. It’s not in the best state, -” Sakura gestured around with a flick of her wrist, “- there’s boggarts and doxies, but we’ll have it ready.”

She led Yato further down the hallway and turned a sharp corner he hadn’t noticed. The steps turned to grey concrete that spiralled downwards, echoing the further they went. There were fewer gas lamps down here, making it harder to make out a sooty kitchen.

“I should tell you we’re not completely alone,” Sakura said.

Yato’s eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness as Sakura walked over to the fireplace and set about lighting a lamp.

Black cauldrons and pots lay strewn on the floor. Piles of dishes stacked in the sink and counters threatened to topple over and shatter, not that it would make the kitchen any dirtier. No light shone through the kitchen windows. Whether they existed or were blacked out from soot, Yato couldn’t tell.

A large fireplace fashioned into an aga sat in the centre of the wall, crackling and licking at logs. It was reminiscent of Slytherin’s common room with less light, less luxury, and filthier.

A trick of the light had Yato see a small hand silhouetted against the flames, but the sound of a fresh log splintering in the heat and a shuffle pricked Yato’s ears.

The brightness of a newly lit lamp and the tip of Sakura’s wand illuminated the figure. It was short, about the size of a child dressed in dirty rags, with elongated ears. Big green eyes glittered in the firelight at Yato.

Sakura smiled down at the figure then looked back at Yato.

“This is our house elf, Ebisu.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's been 1.5 years since I updated this. If you're still here, thank you.


End file.
